“The house has to serve comfort”

All art is erotic.

The work of art is responsible to none; the house is responsible to everyone.

Lack of ornamentation is a sign of spiritual strength.

The room has to be comfortable; the house has to look habitable.

Be truthful. Nature only sides with truth.

The house thinks of the present.

Supply and demand regulate architectural form.

He hates everything that wants to draw him out of his acquired and secured position and that disturbs him.

The work of art wants to draw people out of their state of comfort.

The work is a private matter for the artist. The house is not.

I have emerged victorious from my thirty years of struggle.

he architect’s task therefore, is to make those sentiments more precise.

Tattooed men who are not behind bars are either latent criminals or degenerate aristocrats.

I would be able to infer, form the shape of that button

The bank must declare: here your money is secure and well looked after by honest people.

How they lived, what was their religion, their art, their mentality.

The more comfort becomes your priority, the more contracted you become with fear.

I don’t let any personal views about religion cause me to want to take away something that’s offering the patient comfort.

Since we think about ourselves so much of the time, it is comforting to assume … that we really know the score…. [But] this is not an easy assignment.

But Humanity, in its desire for comfort, had over-reached itself. It had exploited the riches of nature too far. Quietly and complacently, it was sinking into decadence, and progress had come to mean the progress of the Machine.

Gritty people train at the edge of their comfort zone. They zero in on one narrow aspect of their performance and set a stretch goal to improve it.

I think we ripple on into others, just like a stone puts its ripples into a brook. That, for me, too, is a source of comfort. It kind of, in a sense, negates the sense of total oblivion.

How defeated and restless the child that is not doing something in which it sees a purpose, a meaning! It is by its self-directed activity that the child, as years pass, finds its work, the thing it wants to do and for which it finally is willing to deny itself pleasure, ease, even sleep and comfort.

From morning till night, sounds drift from the kitchen, most of them familiar and comforting. . . . On days when warmth is the most important need of the human heart, the kitchen is the place you can find it; it dries the wet sock, it cools the hot little brain.